Night
by Runehar
Summary: Harry's been having these... dreams. They're not bad, really they're not! Quite good, actually... It's just a pity they're having such a negative impact on his health. If only he knew who the man in his dreams was... Drarry, rated M. Don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: You know how it is; one minute you're browsing the HP section on FF, the next minute - BAM! Inspiration! A snippet from one summary of a fic, a word from another, add in the movie you watched last night and - WHAM! New fic! This is my first HP fanfic, so bear with me :)

The story so far (because apparently my muse likes to start in the middle):

Firstly (and very importantly), Draco Malfoy never attended Hogwarts due to their stringent rule not allowing... his kind... into the school as students (yes, this will be a creature fic).

Secondly, Harry Potter had a boring and rather uneventful first 5 years at Hogwarts. Okay, so there was that incident with the Stone in his first year, the basilisk in his second, [A/N to the A/N: without Draco to further the plot in year three, nothing happens (Yes, I AM ignoring the whole book. Sirius escapes Azkaban, but doesn't attempt to contact Harry; that happens in the summer between third and fourth years). The skip IS deliberate :)], the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year where Cedric Diggory was killed after grabbing the cup just before Harry, and the whole nastiness at the Ministry at the end of fifth year where Sirius nearly died after an encounter with his crazed cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. Otherwise, Harry's years at Hogwarts have been relatively carefree, save for homework, exams and the constant bickering between his two best friends, Ron and Hermione.

Thirdly, this story is rated M for a REASON. There will (eventually) be scenes unsuitable for some readers (and unsavory to others) so proceed with caution and no flames! (I mean, if I had you in a chair with teeth- I mean, a knife to your neck and _forced_ you to read it, then flame me by all means; until then, if you don't like it, don't read it!) That being said, I can't guarantee that this fic will be _very_ M rated (I've never written anything like this before so this will be an experiment for me), but I will do my best. Constructive criticism is always appreciated!

Lastly, this will be M/M (boy on boy for those of you who don't know), so if that squicks you, "just keep walkin', Preacher Man!"

On with the story!

* * *

His lips moved closer, and Harry could sense His body suspended in the air over him. The atmosphere between them crackled, enlivening the air even as Harry felt Him move even more slowly than before. Just as Harry was about to open his eyes to see what was taking Him so long, His lips touched his right eyelid, then his left. "Leave your eyes closed," He said, His voice like dark chocolate covered strawberries - sweet as ever but infinitely more rich. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but he suddenly found himself being kissed; as always, the kiss stole his breath away, leaving him gasping for air when it ended. The voice above him chuckled. "If that's your reaction to a simple kiss, I can't _wait_ to see how you react to more indecent activities."

Harry felt himself blush from his scalp all the way down his neck. The chuckle turned to a purr. "Oh, Harry, do you have _any_ idea how gorgeous you are when you blush like that? I could just eat." His lips closed over Harry's mouth again. "You." Another kiss, this time on the edge of Harry's jaw. "Up." A nip this time, right over Harry's jugular. Harry felt the energy in the room begin to pulse, beating in time with his heart. Another nip, harder this time, sent jolts of pleasure through his entire body. He pressed his neck into His hot mouth, silently begging for more. Just when he thought he might not be able to wait any longer the teeth pierced his flesh. Harry cried out in both pain and ecstasy-

-and awoke, gasping for breath. He peered into the darkness which surrounded his bed, searching for the being in his dreams, even though he knew He wouldn't be there. Every night he had the same dream. Well, not the same dream, exactly. There were certain common elements - his inability to see his lover, for starters - but lately, the dreams had been getting more and more intense. He still remembered the first dream he'd ever had about his faceless companion, on the night of his

16th birthday. Every night since he'd dreamed about his concealed lover, and he remembered each dream in vivid detail. He ran a hand through his damp hair - the closed curtains around his bed made him feel like he was sleeping in a sauna - and groped around under his pillow for his wand. He cast TEMPUS and nearly groaned out loud when he saw that it was just past 3 o'clock in the morning. He replaced his wand under his pillow and laid down again, pushing his quilt to the foot of the bed. He covered himself with just the sheet and closed his eyes, hoping for sleep but knowing it wouldn't come.

* * *

Hermione frowned at him across the table at breakfast. "Harry, are you sure you're feeling alright? You're white as a ghost. No offense!" she added quickly to Nearly Headless Nick who had chosen that exact moment to float upwards through the table in front of her.

"None taken, Miss Granger," he reassured her. "If I took offense every time I heard that expression now that I'm dead, I would be eternally offended!"

Ron leaned over from his place next to Harry. "Are you going to try to join in the Headless Hunt again this year?"The ghost sniffed. "I have already attempted entry, young Mister Weasley, and I was once again rebuffed. One of these years they'll understand that a small strip of skin isn't enough to keep me away from the hunt. Unfortunately, it is not _this_ year." He floated away down the table, scaring one of the first years so badly she spilled her pumpkin juice down the front of the boy sitting next to her.

Ignoring the commotion at the other end of the table, Hermione refocused her attention on Harry. "You really are quite pale, Harry. Are you sure you shouldn't go see Madame Pomfrey?" She reached out a hand to feel his forehead, but he batted her hand away irritably.

"I'm fine, Hermione! I just haven't gotten much sleep, that's all."

She sighed. "You've been saying that for almost two months now, Harry. It's not normal! If you won't talk to Madame Pomfrey, talk to _someone_. Even Sirius-" she broke off after Harry sent a glare sour enough to curdle milk in her direction.

"Hermione, if I _wanted_ to talk to someone, don't you think I _would_ have? Why don't you just-" he bit off what he had been about to say. He was exhausted, not stupid. He closed his eyes and counted to five before opening them again and looking at Hermione. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I shouldn't have snapped at you. I know you were just trying to help, but I think I can make my own decision on this."

Harry rose from the table. "I forgot to grab my books for class this morning. I'll see you in Transfiguration." He walked toward the doors of the Great Hall, ignoring Hermione's attempt to call him back. Just as he reached the doors, Dumbledore tapped a spoon to his goblet, bringing a halt to both the usual morning chatter and Harry's escape. Dumbledore stood, folding his hands in front of him. "I hope you have all had an enjoyable breakfast. I know the house elves worked especially

hard on the pumpkin pancakes, so be sure to thank the next house elf you see." Most of the older students rolled their eyes; everyone knew that Hogwarts' house elves didn't allow themselves to be seen, especially thanked. Harry saw Hermione narrow her eyes; she was most likely trying to figure out how many extra hats she could knit this week to leave for the unsuspecting house elves in 'thanks.'

Dumbledore continued, the expression on his face more serious now. "Beginning tomorrow, Hogwarts will be the host to a group of emissaries from a very dangerous race. They have sworn not to harm any of the students, but do not push your luck. They will be given quarters in the east wing of the seventh floor and should keep to themselves during their stay. If you do happen to meet any of them in the hallway, do not attempt to provoke them in any way; simply follow the procedure you have learned in your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. As a precaution, the entire seventh floor will be declared off limits to all students while our guests are in the castle. I will repeat this warning over supper tonight, but if you know of any classmates who are not present, please pass this warning along.

Now, I believe you all have classes to be getting to, so I will end with this: cornucopia!"

Dumbledore retook his seat and many students began to gather their bags, shaking their heads at Dumbledore's nonsense. Harry had to run to the tower to get his book bag and run nearly all the way to the Transfiguration classroom in order to be on time.

He sat heavily in his seat beside Ron; he had been exhausted all morning and the run hadn't done him any favors. Hermione turned in her seat to ask, "what do you think Professor Dumbledore meant by a 'dangerous race' staying in Hogwarts? If they really are so dangerous, they shouldn't be in the castle at all!"

Harry sighed, fighting the urge to lay his head on his desk and never move again. "I'm sure Dumbledore knows what he's doing, Hermione. After all, they did promise not to harm any students and they shouldn't even be anywhere near us while they're here." Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Harry was saved by the timely arrival of McGonagall. Harry managed to avoid Hermione and her debate over the safety of Hogwarts for the rest of the day, completing his homework

for the next day in the 6th year boy's dorm and taking his dinner in the kitchen with the house elves.

That night, Harry stumbled into bed, more tired than he could ever remember being before. He closed his eyes, wondering how long he would be able to sleep before that wonderful, terrible dream came.

* * *

Harry awoke to the sound of his dorm-mates stumbling around in their usual pre-breakfast daze. He laid in bed for a few moments, trying to make sense of what had just happened - or not happened, as the case may be. He sat up and grabbed his wand; casting TEMPUS and gasped when he saw that it was 7:20 in the morning. He had actually slept through an entire night! He shook his head, trying to figure out why last night had been so different - he hadn't done anything out of the ordinary that he could recall. Harry decided to leave his pondering for later; if he wanted any breakfast, he had to get up NOW.

Ron actually did a double take as Harry emerged from behind the curtains around his bed. "Oi, what are you doing in bed? Usually you're up and about before any of us!"

Harry grinned at him as he made his way into the bathroom. "Sleeping, Ron! Actually sleeping! I feel great!"

Ron shook his head at his friend. "I'll save you a spot at breakfast, Harry. I'm starving!" Harry chuckled. Leave it to Ron to think of his stomach first. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror; he had been avoiding mirrors lately because of his deteriorating appearance due to lack of sleep. Now he actually looked halfway human. The deep purple bruises under his eyes had faded to light smudges, his skin no longer had its usual pale flatness, and his hair no longer looked like it belonged to a distant cousin of Snape's. The mirror even sighed when she saw him, saying, "much better, dearie; much better." After his morning ablutions, Harry hummed the entire way to the Great Hall. Sure, he got a few odd looks, but he didn't really care. He felt GREAT!

He dropped into his seat beside Ron, shooting Hermione a grin before helping himself to the biggest meal he'd eaten in months. Both her and Ron stared at Harry

as he started eating. Hermione hesitated before asking, "Harry, are you feeling alright?"

Harry nearly choked on his bite of toast; always the same question! He nodded at her, continuing to eat. Hermione narrowed her eyes, unconvinced. Harry finally paused, swallowing before he spoke. "Hermione, I'm fine. I just had a good night's sleep - no dreams - and I actually feel rested. That's all."

Suddenly, Hermione's hand was gripping his chin, turning his head this way and that so she could peer at his scar. "What kind of dreams, Harry? Dreams about -" she broke off, lowering her voice to a whisper "-_him_? Harry you should have told us - or at the very least, Dumbledore - if you're having dreams about _him_ again."

She finally stopped twisting his head but didn't let go of his chin, looking him square in the eye. "You know better than to let Voldemort in your head! Remember what nearly happened at the Ministry? Harry, at the very _least_ you should talk to Sirius; see what he has to sa-" Harry finally pulled away, breaking her tirade.

"Hermione, stop; it's not like that! I haven't been dreaming about Voldemort or anything to do with the war. They're just-" He searched for the best way to describe them, blushing slightly. "Weird dreams, that's all. It's nothing bad, just... kind of creepy." _But not _that_ creepy_, he added mentally.

Hermione's eyes softened. "Of course. It's only natural that you should have nightmares with everything you've been through." She grabbed Harry's hand, preventing him from continuing breakfast. "But I still say you should go see Madame Pomfrey. She could give you Dreamless Sleep and you could sleep well _every_ night, not just once in a while."

Harry sighed mentally; it was easier to allow her to believe he had nightmares that to correct her. _Not to mention less embarrassing_... He worked his hand free and continued to eat, emptying his plate twice before Ron was through with his first.

Towards the end of breakfast, Filch made his way through the doors of the Great Hall, jogging toward the head table. Everyone stopped to stare; Filch was a terrible sight at the best of times, and this physical exertion was doing him no favors. He finally reached Professor Dumbledore and whispered something in his ear. Dumbledore nodded in return and McGonagall stood while Filch jogged back down the Great Hall.

"Your attention please. The-" She broke off - most of the students were still watching Filch jog to the doors. McGonagall cleared her throat and the students (with the exception of a few first years and Ron) jerked their attention back to the deputy headmistress. "Ahem. As I was saying, the emissaries have arrived. Their group is quite a bit larger than we expected, so we have decided to make all of the seventh floor off-limits to students. I am sure you will all treat our guests with the respect they deserve and will not bother them in or around their quarters. Upper years, please keep an eye on the younger students in your houses, especially the first years who have not had experience with these particular individuals. Professor Drumm has been asked to give you all a refresher course in your Defense classes as to how to successfully ward off one of our guests. BUT." She raised a finger. "This method is _only_ to be used as a last resort. Should you feel threatened in any way, please attempt to contact a professor."

The Great Hall was buzzing softly now as students tried to figure out what their visitors might be.

Everyone's attention refocused on the doors to the Great Hall because now, just inside the doors, stood three pale figures. The one on the right was female. She was tall and red-haired, and a vicious scar ran from just above her left temple and ran all the way down her neck and disappeared under the collar of her deep purple cape. The other two were male, but as different as night and day. The middle one had long black hair which flowed past his shoulders and seemed to become part of his black cloak. He was shorter than both of his companions, but he radiated a presence that demanded attention. The third figure was, in a word, beautiful. He was taller than the other two and his short, platinum blond hair seemed to glow in the Hall's torchlight. He wore a white cape, embroidered with silver thread in a pattern much like swirling snow. His gray eyes roamed the Hall before his eyes met Harry's and widened in shock. Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. _Those eyes_...

Across the table, Hermione gasped. "Oh," she breathed softly. "_Vampires_..."

* * *

End A/N: Not sure if I'm going to continue this or not. I'm completely at the mercy of my muse, at this point...


	2. Chapter 2

IMPORTANT: PLEASE DO NOT SKIP FOURTH POINT IN A/N. IF YOU SKIP IT AND ARE LATER OFFENDED BY THE CONTENT OF THIS CHAPTER, TOO BAD!

First off, thanks a bunch to MidnightShadeux, Belong to the Shadows, Kaley B, Lucy Kent, and TazzieLuv13 for reviewing last chapter! You guys rock!

Next things next, I'm looking for a new title for this fic. "Night" was only supposed to be a working title, but I hadn't thought of a good one by the time I was ready to post. Suggestions would be appreciated!

Thirdly, all translations are from google translate. I tried to use the best choices available, but I'm assuming if you're reading a fic about vampires and wand-wielding wizards, you're not here for the realism/accuracy :)

Fourthly, a reminder that this story is rated M. This chapter starts off the M-rated portion by dipping oh-so-slightly into guy-on-guy(-on-guy) semi-dub-con territory. You have been warned. DO NOT flame me if you are offended/squicked. This is the LAST warning I will give for this story.

Fifthly, just in case this story is ever taken down by the powers-that-be, I also have an account on AO3 (as runehar4416) and will be posting this story there in the next couple of days.

Finally, apologies for how long this chapter took me to get up; I had one idea for this chapter, and (as usual) my muse had another. I spent several days trying to hash this thing out on my own before conceding defeat and returning to my muse in shame...

* * *

The Hall was still buzzing long after the vampires had gone, whisked away into a private conference with Dumbledore. Harry could hear the students around him all whispering to each other, but they sounded strange, as though Harry were listening to them from underwater. One thought was still tumbling through his head, repeating over and over: _those eyes_... Even from across the Hall they had been... mesmerising.

Harry shivered. Even though the Great Hall was kept at a consistant temperature due to a weather charm developed by Dumbledore's Charms professor (as Hermione had informed them several years ago during one of her re-readings of 'Hogwarts: A History'), Harry still felt chilled to the bone. He stood abruptly, startling Hermione and Ron, who had been bickering over Ron's inattention to McGonagall's speech, into silence.

Harry mumbled something about needing to get ready for Care of Magical Creatures and left, ignoring the worried looks his best friends shared and Ron's whispered "but Defense is our first class of the day, and that's not for nearly half an hour!"

Harry walked out of the Great Hall and wandered aimlessly for a while - up this set of stairs, down that corridor - until he came to a dead end and had to stop. He realized he had no idea where he was; he had never been to this part of the castle. Harry tried to re-trace his steps, but became hopelessly lost after just a few turns. He heard a rustling noise behind him, and turned to see two men standing less than three feet from him. He had never seen these men, but judging by their rather elaborate clothing and the hungry gleam in their eyes, Harry could only presume they were vampires. He felt a thrill of fear race through his veins, but also something else. Something he had until now only felt in his dreams: desire.

Harry cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn't sound too shaky (either from fear or arousal). "I'm fairly certain you aren't supposed to be in this part of the castle," he said. The two vampires chuckled, before the one on Harry's left stepped even closer.

"_Au contraire, mon cher donneur_," he said, his white teeth glinting in the torchlight. "_You_ are the one in the wrong part of the castle." Seeing Harry's look of confusion, he clarified: "You're on the seventh floor, _favori_."

The two vampires started edging closer, and Harry was forced to take several steps back in order to avoid their grasps. Still they advanced, and the one who had spoken to Harry started to change; his teeth became sharper and a deep, wine-red began to seep into the brown of his eyes. Fear and fixation warred inside Harry until he had become frozen in place. Part of him wanted to step forward into their arms, part of him wanted to run back down the corridor until he found someone who could help him.

The choice was taken from him as the two vampires reached him and began circling him, their hands wandering over his body. The second vampire, who had yet to speak, placed one hand over Harry's heart, feeling it speed up. The other hand rested on Harry's lower back as he leaned in and dragged his tongue along the underside of Harry's jaw. "I suppose you'll have to repay us for the invasion of our territory, won't you, _clws fachgennyn_?"

The first vampire slid both his hands down Harry's sides, resting them on his waist. "_Oui, petit amour_. That is 'ow it works. We will return you to your freedom, but first, you must... thank us."

Harry's hands came up to rest on the vampire's chest, though Harry himself wasn't sure whether or not to push him away. He closed his eyes, focusing on their hands and felt his breathing become shallow and panting

The vampire's hands tightened on Harry's waist, holding him in place while he ground his hips into Harry's. The second vampire crept around behind Harry and grabbed Harry's hips before grinding his hips into Harry's arse.

Harry could feel his heart beginning to pound as the two vampires gripped him tighter, both of them beginning to kiss opposite sides of the column of Harry's neck.

"_Drugarog arglwydd_," one of them muttered. "He tastes so fucking good! I could just-" he scraped his teeth over Harry's jugular instead of finishing the statement. Harry shivered in anticipation. He knew from his dreams how intense this could become, and by this point, most of his nerves were screaming at him to just allow this to happen. The vampire behind him slid Harry's robes down his arms and tossed it away even as the vampire in front of him pulled off his jumper and began to unbutton his shirt, licking and nipping at the exposed skin. The second vampire slipped his hands down the front of Harry's trousers, and Harry jumped as he felt the hands begin to stroke the hardness in his pants. His breath, hot and moist, never left off panting at Harry's neck while the first vampire, finished with Harry's shirt, growled and ripped the other vampire's hands away, pulling Harry's lower body against his with astonishing strength. The two of them continued growling at each other for a few more seconds until they seemed to recall what they were doing and resumed their assault on Harry's body.

Even though Harry - pressed up against their chests as he was - felt that the two vampires were no longer growling, he swore that he could still hear a low rumbling fill the corridor. The rumble grew in volume until the very air seemed to vibrate with it. The two vampires on either side of Harry froze, and Harry finally opened his eyes. What he saw, ten feet from him down the corridor, was magnificent. There, in all his raging glory, stood the vampire dressed in white from the Great Hall. His eyes were now a bright blood red and his lips were pulled back in a snarl, revealing the sharp points on his feeding-teeth. Harry felt the two vampires detach from him and back away a full five feet before turning on their heels and vanishing down a side corridor.

Harry stood there, gasping for breath. It took his lust-fogged brain a few seconds to realize how ridiculous he must look, standing half-dressed in the middle of the corridor, gaping at an angry vampire. He gathered his shirt around him and snapped his jaw shut, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. The vampire's eyes, which had been tracking the other vampires as they fled, snapped back to Harry. He ceased growling and his feeding- teeth receded into his gums, though his lips remained curled in a sneer. His molten-red eyes faded back to their ice-grey hue, but it was the coldness with which he regarded Harry which raised goosebumps on Harry's flesh.

The vampire stalked past Harry, who flinched as their shoulders brushed. Harry turned to follow, opening his mouth to ask the vampire what he was planning on doing with Harry now, only to be hit in the face with first his jumper, then his robes. The vampire strode away down the corridor, snarling over his shoulder for Harry to "put those on and follow me!"

Harry hurried to do just that, rushing to keep the vampire in sight, before cursing as he realized that he had tried to put his jumper on over his robes. He paused to extricate himself before continuing, but by the time he retrieved his glasses from where they had become entangled on the inside of his jumper, the vampire was nowhere in sight. Harry ran in the direction the vampire had been heading and reached an intersection of four corridors, each of them exactly like the other.

Harry looked down the right corridor, then the left, and, seeing no sign of the vampire, began to lead toward the corridor in front of him. A hand suddenly grabbed his wrist, spinning him around; Harry gasped aloud, the sound echoing down the corridors. Harry brought his other hand up to ward off whoever was attacking him now and felt that wrist get caught as well. He relaxed only marginally when he realized it was the same pale vampire he had been trying to follow.

The vampire shook him, snarling. "Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed? I told you to follow me!"

Harry attempted to stammer an apology, but quickly shut up as the vampire nearly yanked him off his feet, tugging Harry by his wrist down the corridor on their right. Several twists and turns later, the vampire opened a door which led to a set of stairs curving away both up and down what appeared to be a tower. Harry was practically shoved out the door and it slammed behind him, the resulting bang reverberating through the tower and causing the torches on the walls to flicker momentarily.

Harry stood, dumbfounded, staring at the wall for a few seconds before he began to get angry. He paced the landing, hands pressed into fists. He had been about to get _laid_, dammit! Who did that vampire think he was, getting between Harry and what could have been the best experience of his sixteen years? So what if they were dangerous vampires who were just as likely to bleed him dry as let him go? So what if Harry had been in way over his head? Who did that vampire think he was deciding that Harry needed rescuing like some damsel in distress?! _He had been about to get LAID, dammit_!

Harry whirled around, pounding on the door. "Open the bloody door, you bastard!" he shouted, his voice echoing around him. He pummeled the door with his fists and feet for several minutes, screaming at the vampire for being such a bloody wanker. When it became clear the door wasn't going to open no matter how hard Harry hit it, he stomped down the stairs, muttering maledictions with every step.

* * *

Translations:  
*au contraire, mon cher donneur* (French) - on the contrary, my dear donor  
*favori* (French) - pet  
*clws fachgennyn* (Welsh) - pretty little boy  
*oui, petit amour* (French) - yes, darling  
*drugarog arglwydd* (Welsh) - merciful Lord


End file.
